Odd things in the 1100's and some 1500's
by Dodectron
Summary: Drabbles in Assassin's creed one and two, occasional coarse language and bad writing skills.
1. Merchant goodness

Hi everyone :3 It's me again, and I decided to write something about Assassin's Creed. These are just things I've noticed in the game that are kind of odd, like how the stall merchants insist that their stock is fresh and everything you'd ever need. I checked, and the guy had some rugs and pots... then he went off saying something else, but something distracted me :S anyway, I'll be posting some more later when I think of 'em. Already have an idea involving the Dome of Rock ;)

Disclaimer: I do not, in fact, own Assassin's Creed. If I did, it'd be horrible and everyone would hate it. Which is why I don't own it. :D

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1#.

"Yes, yes, everything is very fresh! Come and buy some of my stock!" babbled the owner of a rickety wooden stall in the market outside of Damascus, framed by the thin sticks holding up a thin roof, and the back of the shop a simple orange blanket that swung back and forth, tattered edges brushing in the dirt behind the stall. Several people had stopped outside of the stall, watching the man with interest, though none of them seemed that interested in the objects that were for sale.

"Come and see what I have to offer! Ah, yes, I like a customer that knows what he wants!" the merchant trilled to his crowd, speaking to some invisible being that was willing to spend coins on his crappy, ridiculously expensive and pointless stock. The crowd, without any warning and no clear sign as to why they did so, turned as one and walked off, splitting into individuals but still just wandering about mindlessly. Not that the merchant minded. He continued to speak to the invisible person, in love with the sound of his own voice.

"I must have gone mad! Everything is cheap today, come and buy something!"

The sun rose and sank during the day, though night never did seem to come, and the merchant didn't move from the spot, announcing that his stock was 'fresh', 'cheap' and that he had everything the buyer needed. There was something wrong, though; he claimed his stock was fresh, like fruit or fish that could have gone off on the trip to his shop. His stall was actually full of pots and some rugs off to the side. This didn't discourage the merchant from attempting to sell his fresh pots and rugs to the invisible people that cared about them.

A white blur was coming to the miniature market, a man in greyish robes and bearing a red sash around his stomach. He was armed to the teeth, which had apparently caught the attention of those running behind him, and there were about fifteen guards shouting their heads off as they stampeded after the unfortunate assassin. The man looked around desperately, still pounding down the dirt road as fast as he could go, and angled his trajectory towards the same stall occupied by a mindless, inexhaustible merchant that even now shouted that his rugs and pots were all that you would ever need.

With a great leap and with his hands brought together in flight, the Assassin dove through the stall, somehow missing the merchant but still smashing every pot and breakable object that was inside of the rickety wooden structure. The man gasped and stood still, watching the man run off again, and the fifteen guards attempted to jump through the stall as well, for reasons unknown to those watching. Unfortunately the shop was not built for people jumping through it, and the guards that jumped at the same time were crushed under the stall, which also killed the merchant instantly.

Everything was quiet for a while, the crowd watching or at least facing the same direction as the dead bodies, and no-one noticed when the four guards protecting the gates fell dead from throwing knives; they weren't important. Eventually they ignored the crushed stall, turning back to do whatever it was normal people do all day, and the other merchants struck up their salesman speeches once more enthusiastically.

"My stock is fresh! Come, come and see what I have to offer!"

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So, what did you think? Please review so I can know if this was a good idea or not :D also any ideas for this would be loved.


	2. Unobvious escapes

Hi again everyone. This isn't the best I could do, but it contains a fair few irritations I've experienced in the game that I'm sure plenty of others have too. Mind that this Assassin might not be Altair, by the way, but any Assassin at all. You could imagine him as one of your own characters, if you wanted. What irritated me most sometimes was how guards were so frigging annoying to beat if you were tired and had no sense of timing. Also the lock-on thing. I've got it down now, and am attempting to perfect my method of horse-back killing ;)

Anyway, I don't own Assassin's Creed, and to tell the truth neither do Ubisoft, as the Hashashin were real people and they had a real creed :D though they do own the game.

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The streets of Jerusalem were, as always, busy to the point of crowd crushes, though there were no records of the commoners being squashed due to never stopping to rest, no looking around to see where they were, and an apparent lack of needing to eat, sleep or relieve themselves. The people strode purposefully together to a dead end of a street, then abruptly turned around to march back the way they came, getting their exercise and fresh air in the filthy streets where they could do no more than walk. The houses squatted like rectangular insects along the sides of the walking-streets, some squashed into remarkable positions and still existing.

Archways appeared here and there, usually showing the way to some remarkable place or visitable location, and each was guarded by four men. Each man had crossed arms, and though this would ordinarily seem impractical for the drawing of weapons or any real action, they certainly looked impressive to any of the crowd that actually bothered to look. Multitudes of people marched past, then after a time marched back, their heads thrown back and proudly displaying richly embroidered clothes.

For some reason there was a long, thin pole on the highest part of the archway; it was perfect for leaping at, hanging onto and swinging past the four 'threatening' men on the ground. In fact, it was used almost daily for that; Assassins swung over the clueless guard's heads to get away from pursuers. Right now, a man in white robes was sweating profusely as he watched from the top of a building, thinking his own personal thoughts. The man spun in a few circles, attempting to face the correct direction, and leapt off his house towards the pole, missing it by metres and landing on top of one of the guards.

Needless to say, the guards weren't very pleased. They did wait politely for the Assassin to get to his feet, but they then struck at him as hard as they could, getting a pathetic little splash of blood in return for their efforts. He pulled out his sword, and attempted to hit the guards but missed each time as he had forgotten to lock on to them. He was almost dead by the time he killed one of them, and at this point didn't care about leaving witnesses. He unlocked, ran off, and cursed as he was hit one last time in this escape attempt.

"You can't run forever!" one of the irritated men shouted intelligently as the Assassin tripped over a stone rail that had been built in his way, as opposed to being placed where they could keep people from falling into rivers and such. The Assassin finally gained his feet and launched off in a run, disappearing within a few seconds into a garden house on the roof.

The guards, following their quarry as though by radar, ran straight past the garden house as if it did not exist, and immediately gave up in their chase, sheathing swords and walking away. "You'd do well to hide," they said as one, and leapt off the roof without getting chased to within an inch of their lives for being where they shouldn't. The Assassin leapt out of the garden, happily content that he was safe, and flinched when a dozen arrows hit his sides, back and face.

"You're not supposed to be here," grumbled the 12 archers that had just fired at him. "Leave."

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Hope you all liked it, please tell me what you think :D Thanks for the reviews already, you guys are the reason I'm making more of these. So, good, not good? Ideas for more would also be great.


	3. Assassin Friendship

It's me again, and wow, an update already! Don't expect this all the time, it's probably gonna be pretty irregular with the updates, but let's just enjoy the ride while we can This chapter is basically the poor Assassin getting some love, as everyone seems to immensely enjoy irritating and torturing him. Including me. Meh.

Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed= not mine. Or yours.

All was still and peaceful along the valley that was etched into the mountainous area, and two young men enjoyed themselves chatting to each other about the weather, food, the weather, aliens, horses, women, the weather and football. They occasionally gestured with callused hands, fully involved in their private discussion, and one laughed at the other's remark about the future possibly allowing women to marry whomever they wanted. They were both wearing quilted tunics, bound at the waist by thick belts, and for some reason had round caps on that caused their heads to resemble mushrooms. Only swords were belted to their sides, and they had the clear look of miniondom about them.

A man wearing a brilliantly white robe, decorated with a deep red sash about his waist and astride an intriguing dark brown mare with white legs to her chest, was cantering further along the valley. He was hot and tired from the long journey, and he had just fought off a horde of savage Saracens on the way to Masyaf from Damascus. In short, the Assassin was pissed. The sight of the typical two idiots guarding some cart in the middle of nowhere made him scowl and reluctantly ease off on squeezing the horse's sweaty sides, allowing the exhausted animal to slow to a trot. The horse whinnied loudly in apparent thanks, but was actually mentioning that she had seen a Kraken, a spaceship and the reincarnation of the devil over the past week. Instead of listening intently, as this information should warrant, the Assassin pulled back on the reins to seem as normal as possible to the two men that had now turned about, forcing his steed to walk.

The mare would have pouted if she had any control over her bottom lip, but instead decided to be as annoying and stubborn as possible to her rider. She slowly walked past the two men with her head arched and tail high, stepping carefully and proudly, then when they were right next to the suspicious soldiers, stopped and refused to move.

The Assassin could feel drops of perspiration growing and trailing down his back, and attempted to kick the stubborn mare back into action, first gently but when there was no response, he really booted her ribs, starting to panic. The horse just turned her head and stared at the rider, her teeth bared in a silent grin. He snarled, the expression hidden under his hood, and glanced at the men next to him. They were silently staring at him, eyes dark and more suspicious than before, and one of them slowly put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

In growing panic, the Assassin did everything he could think of to make the stubborn horse move. This including kicking again, swatting at its neck, attempting to pull its ears but too far away, whacking its hindquarters and one last try at kicking once more. The mare looked back at him again, then with a mighty heave of her back muscles and legs, threw her rider off and into the two guards.

They all yelped and fell over, the Assassin more shocked than anything else, and all three watched as the indignant mare galloped away as fast as she could, ears back and tail held high. They got to their feet and all was silent for a few moments, but then the Assassin turned with a sigh and waited for the sword blows. The two guards glanced at each other and decided not to attack.

"Tough break, mate... you've been having a hard time recently, haven't you?" one of them asked sympathetically, and he nodded glumly.

"Sometimes I feel like my whole life is just entertainment to some higher power," he lamented, leaning on the wooden cart. They both nodded seriously, adding their agreements to that statement. "You're telling me; three of my brothers died from being crushed beneath rickety wooden stalls, which shouldn't even be possible if you ask me."

"Well I have a cousin that got a broken collarbone from some lunatic landing on him from the top of a building."

"Hey, I've been shot at by archers, nearly drowned by accidental thumbstick-flicks and I apparently don't eat, drink or go to the bathroom. I think I deserve some recognition."

They all sat down and chatted amongst themselves for a while as the sun went down, and in the morning the Assassin killed them. Quickly of course, cause they were friends.

Yeah... thanks for all of the reviews people, I'd love some more but 5 is honestly an incredible number for me o-o I love the idea Applaudissement Sonique (your name is really hard to write btw) gave me, and I will use it once I've played the second game :D any new ideas would be loved, and please review with any criticism or encouragements, cause it makes me feel loved :P

No horses were harmed in the making of this fanfiction.


	4. Templar Troubles

_Yo, Assassin fans. It's been ages since my last update, I know, so shoot me. But I've been going through a fair bit of hard schoolwork, trying to get my grades up and being a little sick of the game for a little while. However, the insanity is back! Yay! Don't worry, I'll be making more new chapters now, and I'll be using those ideas you fellas gave me too. I played the second game, so don't worry, but as this story is called odd things in the 1100's, I might have to make another for the 1400's. Anyway, enjoy, it might'nt be fantastic but did make me giggle._

This time, his horse wasn't homicidal.

The assassin was astride a brand new horse, one he had just stolen from a cart where no guards had been keeping watch. It really was odd, how guards had so many horses around that they practically beg for them to be stolen, and yet never rode them, even in pursuit of Assassins. Anyway, this horse was a pretty chestnut, and he had made sure to alternate trotting and galloping about. This made the ride to Damascus very boring, so he had spent most of the time enjoying himself by slashing guards in the back and then running off giggling while they were still freaking out that he was heading into private property.

Apparently guards have no sense of pain. But after a few minutes, of course, they stopped running in circles and wondered why there was blood running down their backs. The assassin wasn't anywhere near them anymore of course. He was having fun further ahead, pushing archers off cliffs and dodging arrows while trotting, which isn't as easy as it sounds.

After a long, hard journey across the holy land, he and his new horse had finally figured out which way to go. By finding the way, he actually just discovered what the mini-map was. Now he went directly there, aggravating platoons of saracens that were marching in squares, and his horse was performing splendidly. Just ahead of them now was a building with two small domes on the roof. Apparently it was a farm, as a paddock was just behind it with three horses standing mindlessly across it.

Allowing the horse to slow to a trot, the assassin entered the doorway while still on his horse, smugly heading towards a sparkly flag that was hidden in the corner. What he did not expect was a templar suddenly in his face, screaming something in french

"Whoa! Where did you spring from?!" the assassin spluttered, struggling to get his horse under control. It was rearing again and again, and no amount of poking or gentle nudging made it move. Finally he just flung himself from its back, and watched in disbelief as the horse promptly turned and galloped out the other door, way faster than it had been before. He was still watching after it forlornly when the templar struck his side with his sword, following up the motion with more strikes which eventually laid the assassin out across the ground. The man grunted as he climbed back to his feet, drawing his sword, and managed to lock on in time to block the next blow, which magically turned into a completely different move that knocked his sword out of his hands. The assassin quickly dove for his weapon again, but the templar stamped on it, a completely unexpected move.

The assassin struggled to pull his sword out from under the foot, ignoring the fact that he could just stab the damn thing with his other numerous weapons, but it wouldn't budge. Strangely, he wasn't killed by a sword thrust to the back, so the assassin glanced up to see what the templar was doing. Immediately, he wished that he hadn't

"Aw, man! That- That's just wrong! EURGH!" he screeched, throwing himself back to his feet and backing away quickly. The templar, rather than attacking, looked down bashfully and behind his helmet actually blushed. The assassin threw a clump of dirt he was holding in disgust, and his foe lifted his foot from the sword, stepping back almost sheepishly. "Uh... you not like?" he asked pleadingly, clasping his hands and doing a remarkably good act of a begging little girl. The assassin just screwed up his nose and pulled a throwing knife from his belt. "No, no, no! You no like? Me sorry! Me thought-"

"What?! Did you think all Assassins were like you Templars? There's a reason people wear underwear beneath robes, you know!" he snarled. The Templar looked down, abashed, and mumbled something under his breath. The assassin would have thrown his knife, but decided that getting information would probably help the brotherhood more than exterminating some gay dude.

"...What did you say?" he asked with a sigh. The templar didn't look up, but repeated what he said loudly enough to hear. "...Homophobe."

Needless to say, his corpse wasn't even thrown into a haystack to hide the crime.

._.


	5. Breathe

**Yo readers. I've decided to continue my Odd Things in the 1100's, only this is based in Assassin's creed 2, because I have more ideas for it. Please send in your ideas and I will credit you with a note here and an oc in one of these drabbles. These are a lot shorter than previous ones, but that will make it easier to write and I will get more chapters out.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's creed one or two, nor do I own hood-hair.**

Sunlight glittered on overheated metal, the protection softened by the constant golden shine. He felt sweat sticking the back of the hood to his neck, and the beaked tip accidentally stuck to his left eyelid when a particularly fast opponent smashed a fist into his face.

He hissed in pain at the metal-plated fist cutting his forehead, and swung in a circle with his sword outstretched. The cloth was still stuck to his eye, but the assassin could hear cries of pain and wet fleshy squelches when he yanked the blade from something that gripped it.

Someone kicked him in the back, causing him to fall forwards and roll back to his feet. Then, to the astonishment of everyone, Ezio ripped off his hood and gasped for breath as a cool breeze soothed the ridiculously sweaty ponytail that hung limp over his folded hood.

Noticing the stares of the watching crowd and the three brutes that had previously been circling him, he scowled and waved his hand, even more irritated when the lacy cuffs refused to unstick from sweaty wrists.

"What? Is there something wrong with _breathing_?"


	6. Thieves and Friendship

**Yo readers and writers. I'm trying for more chapters, more often, so enjoy this little snippet I wrote yesterday.**

**No new reviewers yet- any new people who review will be noted here.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's creed one or two, or eagle feathers.**

Wind swept into his beaked hood, brushing the hair from his face with gentle licks of cool air. He allowed himself to relax and soak in the good feelings that came from being up so high; the safety from arrows and the fact that no guards he had seen could climb up this high.

The sunlight felt warm and cool at the same time, encouraging the muscles in his back to relax. He sat back on the balls of his feet.

The Italian _assassino_ had battled his way up a tower in beautiful _Venezia_, not actually sure if he'd climbed this particular building before but uncaring. Sometimes the rush of being chased by guards when he was attempting to hide his face from notoriety was exciting; but as he aged into a man, he was finding that a little more difficult and not as much fun.

Sometimes it was good to just relax where no-one else could find him, not even la Volpe, who was the best climber apart from himself that Ezio knew. His eyes, often unfocused when in such a relaxed state, came back to life as an eagle soared past with its echoing screech sending every prey animal nearby into hysterics. He smiled at the bird; if humans could truly relate to animals, his favourite was the eagle. It often seemed the closest to his lifestyle and even physical looks.

Besides, enemies usually reacted with greater fear when one had some sort of symbol to illustrate their presence. If he had one, it would be an eagle feather.

Thinking of eagles and flight, he transferred his attention to the water far below.

Something screamed in his ear.

As Ezio shrieked like a girl, falling towards water that could look nearly deadly from this height, he cursed having friends who could climb nearly (or in this situation, just as well) as himself. The thief king Antonio laughed heartily as he struck the blue water with a loud and undignified splash.


	7. Mission: Imp

**I just... don't know. Heh. This was supposed to be a drabble for L'Artista Brilliante, but it kind of went in a different direction. Don't worry, though- I'll get it done one day!**

**New Reviewers: CinamonSwirls. Thanks so much for your kind words.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed one or two, and I do not own parkour skills. Damn it.**

He crouched on a wall like a large bird of prey, faceless and intimidating. A white, beaked hood concealed his face, and floral armour protected his chest and shoulders from stray arrows. Swords never could get too close with his skill.

The assassin was on a mission; a righteous mission, one to right wrongs and destroy the wicked. He was on a mission to...

Beat the living crap out of some poor bloke with a harpie of a wife that hired assassins to do painful things to their husbands.

Granted, the guy probably deserved it.

His eyes glowed briefly golden, and a faint yellow trail appeared before him, the rest of the world forgotten and black. Ezio dropped to the ground and followed the trail, ignoring the indignant gasps and idiotic questions from the random man with a broom who didn't like his attitude.

"Life expectancy? Oh.. about five minutes, I'd say," the man commented snarkily and walked off, having forgotten his broom.

Ezio strode past the guards that were patrolling in tightly knit groups, hiding a smirk within the shadows of his hood at their nervousness. He had made sure to be incognito before going on this mission, but though incompetent, the guards were not stupid enough to forget the city's top priority mass-murderer because of a few shredded posters. _At least they got my likeness_, he smirked to himself, basking in his own ego.

The buildings seemed to pause for a moment, with a gap between two of them. A wall blocked his view of this gap, but they had not yet built any wall that could not be climbed or circumvented by Ezio Auditore. He smirked and swirled his half-cloak in the air, causing several nearby women to faint and be caught by their husbands.

Unfortunately there was a door, and he didn't have any real excuse to backflip into the cheating husband like a ninja. That didn't stop him from doing so, however.

Ezio laughed crazily as he landed on the target, and bending over, he flipped the person onto their back to see his face-

But...

It's not a man?

...

Oh... whoops.

"My apologies, miss," he said smoothly, helping the bruised and broken lady to her feet.

"Why... never mind. I don't want to know!" she said simply, brushing off the blood and mud from her dress to go and stare at a wall emptily.


	8. Jeez Louise

**Jeez, guys... sorry about the terrible quality. I really don't know how the previous ones ended up funny, so I gave it a go again. I hope you all enjoy it. Please tell me if a particular bit annoyed you or made you laugh even more- not only will it improve my writing, but it'll give me a giggle, too.**

**Smell ya later.**

All is well in the Holy Land.

That is, if murder, death and... well, killing is well. For the Hashashin, this is the best day you could ask for- the master has called you to his study in order to give you a mission of great importance. The young man puffed out his chest proudly and strutted across the courtyard to brag to his fellow Assassins.

"Hey there. You should know, I'm a big shot now. I'm going to be spoken to by the old man himself," he said very loudly to the young women chatting without words in the beautiful garden. They all turned towards him and stared, silent. The Assassin left very, very quickly after that.

Something small and golden got stuck in his nose. He coughed and sneezed, but the stuff seemed to clump together in his throat. Everyone just watched as he fell to the ground, gasping petals out of his nostrils.

"Uh... help! Now!" he shouted at the guards. They watched him emptily, then looked at each other. "Has he gone mad?" one of them asked the other. The other didn't answer the question, which was very rude of him. But then, Assassins can afford to be rude. They're freaking Assassins.

"He's going to hurt someone. And when he does, I won't help him," informed Al Mualim, watching passively from his big... office thingy and spinny chair. Hey, you can't go without a spinny chair. No-one takes you seriously, even in the dark ages.

Eventually the young Assassin managed to hack the petals out of his larynx and straighten up. However, it turned out he was allergic to the yellow petals. He sneezed all over the girls, who for once showed some presence of mind and crowded around him in revenge, begging for... something.

"Please! Just a few! Please!" they wailed, not even mentioning coins but doing very well if they were trying to be annoying. He got pissed very quickly and shoved them all down. They all got onto their knees and did... something. ...Wait.

"You all disgust me," he told them firmly and dislodged their hands from the front of his robes.

He marched to Al Mualim and watched with interest as the Master Assassin Altair was dressed down and yelled at for breaking the rules. Apparently he had been an ignoramus again, so he had to go kill some Templars to make up for it. Then the Master commented that it was his fault the Templars had come to Masyaf at all, that Altair had led them there.

"Um... master Al Mualim, that's not true. Technically, Malik led them here," said the younger Assassin. Unfortunately they didn't seem to hear.

"I said... it's Malik's fault."

They ignored him.

"IT WAS MALIK! WITH THE HIDDEN BLADE! IN JERUSALEM!" he screeched.

"CLUEDO!" screamed everyone in Masyaf.

"A-hem. Anyway, go away, Altair. I need to talk to this man here," dismissed Al Mualim. Altair shrugged and left, but he stole a short blade first. From the main character. Who didn't even notice.

"So, it's time for your first important mission. I need you to go and kill someone. I don't care who, ask the Rafiq of Damas if he's been pissed off by anyone recently. Now _shoo_," the master commanded, waiting for the Assassin to turn away before carefully backing his chair away from the desk and spinning it gleefully. No guard in the entire castle would give away his secret, that he was a softie at heart- they were protecting a guild of _Assassins_, after all. For heaven's sake, how many times do I have to repeat this?

"Wait, you want me, a novice, to ride all the way to Damas, by myself and with no weapons- not even a hidden blade?" asked the kid in disbelief. Al Mualim ignored him.

On the way down to the stables (not really, more like a few horses rambled around outside the gate without even a guard next to em) he accidentally ran into a guard, who fell off the cliff. He was horrified at first, but the other guards just watched him blankly. ...huh.

For the next hour he was gleefully 'accidentally' landing on every guy that had annoyed him and apologising to an empty space as the guard plummeted to his (or her? ._.) death. He then promptly fell off himself and drowned in the river below, cause Assassins aren't Assassins unless they're drown-prone.


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